by JS Taylor
“You should take the call,” he says quietly.
I nod and slip out of the children’s ward, pressing the answer button when I reach the corridor.
“Hello?” I answer, wondering what George will have to say for herself.
“Summer?” George sounds urgent – and excited.
“Hello George,” I reply, confused by her tone. “What’s going on?”
“Did you see the news?” George’s voice comes breathless and rushed.
“No, of course not,” I’m momentarily annoyed with George’s selfishness. “I’m in hospital George,” I remind her coldly, “waiting for my unconscious nephew to recover.”
“Oh. Yeah of course,” replies George contritely. “How is he?”
“He’s regained consciousness, and doing well thanks,” I say, bristling at the flippancy in George’s tone. You’d think my nephew had a sprained ankle.
“Well that’s good,” say George. There’s repentance in her voice now. “I hope you’re ok Summer.”
She pauses a moment, and then speaks again, unable to contain herself.
“Watch the showbiz news,” she says. “It’s online.”
“I don’t have time for this George,” I say irritably. “Just tell me what’s happened that’s so important.”
It’s been such a terrible few days that I’m gearing up for another disaster. But I’m numb to it all now. Nothing could be worse than Ben.
George hesitates, and then obviously decides I’m in no mood to have things strung out.
“Remember that journalist?” she says. “Emily? The one who asked you all the personal questions?”
“I remember.”
Where is this going?
“Turns out,” says George dramatically, “She liked us after all. Emily printed a really nice story about us yesterday.”
“George!” I snap, “My nephew is in hospital. Tammy says you’ve left the band. Are you seriously ringing to tell me we had a nice magazine article?”
“No,” says George, sounding hurt. “That’s not it. Emily was freelance. And when we were voted off last night, she did some investigating.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Emily uncovered a whole vote rigging scandal.”
“She did?”
“Uh huh,” says George proudly. “She found out the vote was set up. Just like we thought, remember? When we found that paper.”
“So this means?” I’m scarcely taking it all in.
“It means there has to be a proper investigation,” says George excitedly. “And if they find foul play, we’ll be back on the show.”
“And that’s what you want?” I say, remembering my conversation with Tammy. “Tammy said you quit.”
“Oh that,” says George airily. “I was just letting off steam. I didn’t really mean it. I would never leave you girls,” she adds unconvincingly.
Somehow, I’m not sure Tammy will forgive George for this.
“Look,” I say, feeling suddenly exhausted. “I don’t mean to be rude George, but I’m not sure how to take this. My nephew has only just recovered from a major accident. Right now, I’m about as far from caring about Sing-Win as I could be.”
“But your nephew’s ok, isn’t he?” urges George.
“Yes, but…”
“So you can get back here. If it all works out, we’ll be performing tomorrow.”
“What about Tammy,” I counter, feeling it would be wrong to leave Ben so soon. “Isn’t she angry with you?”
“I’ve spoken to Tammy,” says George breezily. “She’s mad, but she’s so relieved we might be back on Sing-Win, she’ll come around.”
“Just let me think about it George,” I say, “I need to speak to Sam, and…”
“Ok,” agrees George cutting me off. “But don’t think too long Summer. I think we’re gonna need you back here.”
Chapter 32
As I head back to Adam and my family, I’m reeling from the news.
This is good. Isn’t it?
Part of me thinks that Tammy may never forgive George. For all her faults, Tammy is fiercely loyal, and she doesn’t take betrayal lightly.
But I guess George has a point. Now that Ben’s better, I guess there’s nothing stopping me from heading back, and rehearsing for tomorrow’s show.
I have a loyalty to my girls after all.
So why do I feel like this would be a bad idea?
I guess I’m not relishing the thought of George and Tammy working together. And I’m not sure I want to leave Ben yet.
Adam intercepts me in the hospital corridor, before I reach the children’s ward.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, catching me in his arms.
“Well,” I begin, “it’s kind of crazy. But it turns out we’re not off the show after all.”
Adam grins, faking mock surprise.
“You’re kidding?”
I suddenly catch on.
“You knew!” I accuse. “You saw the news already?”
“Not exactly. I had kind of a tip off. But I wasn’t sure how it would pan out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you had more important things on your mind. And I didn’t think you needed the stress of worrying about tomorrow’s show, with your nephew so ill.”
“Ok, that makes sense,” I concede.
Adam examines my face.
“It sounds like I’d better get you back for rehearsal,” he says.
“I don’t know,” I say slowly. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving Ben yet.”
“Ben is fine,” reassures Adam. “The doctor’s are already talking about when he can go home. And I think your nephew would much rather see you on TV, than have you hanging round his bedside.”
“I’ll check with Sam,” I decide, uncertain how my sister will react.
To my surprise, Sam is insistent that I leave right away. Even Ben joins in to try and persuade me to go back to ‘TV land’ as he calls it.
“Please Aunty Summer,” he begs. “I want to see you on the TV again.”
“All right, all right,” I laugh, overcome by the barrage of insistence. “If you’re all throwing me out, then I’ll go.”
“We are,” says Sam. “Go now. The other acts will already be rehearsing. The longer you stay here the more you hurt your chances.”
I kiss goodbye to Sam and my parents, still feeling a little guilty about leaving them at the hospital. But I can’t deny I’m excited to be suddenly back on the show. Even with the Tammy and George situation to contend with.
“Go knock ’em dead,” Sam says. “We’ll be watching.”
I hug her, feeling closer to Sam than I have in years. Funny how tragedy can bring people together.
“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll be back to see Ben first chance I get.”
“Thanks Summer,” she says, “thanks for everything you did.”
She releases me, and hugs Adam suddenly.
“Thank you too,” she says. “For helping us. And for taking such good care of my sister.”
In the car, on the way back to London, it all feels a little surreal.
“I can hardly believe that just happened,” I admit. “I’m so glad Ben’s ok.”
“Me too,” says Adam, glancing over at me. “He’s a great little boy. Maybe we can go visit again some time.”
“You’re serious?” I say. “I thought one meeting with my crazy family would be enough!”
“Of course I’m serious,” he says easily, gunning us down the motorway at high speed. He peeks across and gives me a mischievous grin. “You haven’t met my family yet,” he adds.
His family.
“Am I going to meet them?” I ask cautiously. The atmosphere in the car seems to have shifted slightly.
“Yes,” says Adam. But he doesn’t say more. And the one word rings strangely ominously.
“Which family am I meeting?” I ask.
“My mam. And my brother.
”
“What about your dad?”
“My dad died a long time ago,” says Adam easily. “When I was a boy. It was just me mam and me brothers growing up.”
“Brothers?” I ask, confused. “You have more than one.”
“I have two. We don’t talk about the other one,” says Adam. His voice has a hardness about it which suggests the conversation is ended.
“Do your mum and brother still live in Ireland?” I ask, wondering if I can coax him to tell me about the mystery brother.
“Uh huh.”
“So when will I meet them?”
“When I say so.”
“Don’t I get a say in that?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
“No,” says Adam.
He turns to glance at me, his eyes deadly serious.
“You said you wanted to know all of me Summer. And I’m warning you now. You might not like what you get.”
I swallow, feeling the air turn oppressive.
What does he mean?
“I love you,” I say slowly. “That’s not going to change.”
Adam’s mouth sets in a hard grim line.
“We’ll see,” he says.
The rest of the journey passes in silence. I feel suddenly uneasy.
I love this man. Can I love what he’s hiding?
Adam can be so mercurial. One minute he’s a lovable rogue. The next he’s revealing gangster connections, and shielding me from some dark family secret.
I’m so distracted by my thoughts, that I hardly notice when we pull up to the studio.
“I thought we were going back to the Sing-Win house?” I say, confused. “That’s where Tammy and George are.”
“I want to show you something first,” says Adam.
“What?”
“Just come with me.”
With his revelation on the return journey, my feelings are all over the place. But I let him open the door for me, and guide me out of the car. Once I’m opposite him, his face softens, and suddenly it’s the Adam I know and love again.
“I love you Summer,” he says softly, stroking my hair.
“I love you too,” I murmur back, confused and happy by his return to affection.
“Good,” he says. “Now follow me.”
Adam leads me to the studio room where Dev.as.station and She’s All That rehearsed. I turn to him in confusion as we arrive outside the door.
“This is the studio we rehearsed the video in,” I say in confusion.
Soundlessly, he turns the handle and ushers me inside.
I gasp. Because the plain studio has been transformed. It’s covered on every wall with charts and diagrams.
“What is this?” I whisper, staring at the writing.
All the musicians from every group on Sing-Win are here on the wall.
And from what I can see, someone is setting up an elaborate soap opera for the contestants. Arrows and schematics follow words such as ‘argument’ and ‘love story’. Photos of all the acts interplay with someone’s idea of set character ideas.
Deven, for example, has words such as ‘love god,’ and ‘stud’, whilst Keisha has ‘controlling’ and ‘manipulative’.
My eyes track to She’s All That. But someone seems to have drawn a slight blank with our trio.
They’ve settled on ‘wannabes’ and ‘trouble-makers’ for the group. But we don’t have specific words next to our pictures, like the other acts.
I scan the rest of the board.
Seventh Heaven have the most words by far. Each of the boys starts with a different descriptor, such as ‘the cute one’ or ‘the dangerous one’, followed by a laundry list of complimentary terms.
According to this chart at least, it’s clear Seventh Heaven is the winning band.
“Who did this?” I ask. My eyes are drawn to the word ‘Sadie’ with a big red cross through it. Her words are ‘tortured artist’ and ‘integrity’.
“It’s a plan,” says Adam, following my gaze. “For what the producers want to happen on the show.”
“What?”
How can the producers decide? Isn’t the show live?
“The producers have been doing it from day one,” explains Adam. “I only found out recently. It’s one of the reasons I’m so keen to buy the show.”
I turn to him uncertainly. I have so many questions I’m not sure where to start.
“But it’s a live show,” I say uncertainly. “We’re not actors who can be directed.”
“The show’s producers have their ways,” says Adam, “They’re corrupt to say the least. All they care about is ratings. Since Sing-Win began, they’ve been rigging everything – the coverage each band gets, the telephones votes.”
“And this is how they plan it all?” I ask. “Like a soap opera, but with real live people?”
“Uh huh,” Adam nods. “They set things up and manipulate the footage to deliver the images they want.”
“So Deven’s in on this?” I say, putting the puzzle together. “He acts a part to add drama. They keep him in the show.”
“Exactly right,” says Adam. “And they rig the public vote if it’s not going the way they want. As far as I can make out,” he adds, with a glimmer in his eye, “She’s All That have been a real thorn in their side. You were meant to go out in the first round. But the audience response to you was too obvious, they couldn’t fake it.”
My eyes range around the room. From what I can make out, Deven was supposed to ditch me for Keisha. I guess that didn’t work how he planned it.
Scandelous are pegged for a big bust up by the next show. I wonder if they have any inkling they’re being played.
“Do the other acts know?” I ask, wondering if it’s only us who are in the dark.
Adam shakes his head. “They might have an idea that the camera crew are angling for drama,” he says. “But they don’t know they’re being manipulated into set roles.”
“This is disgusting,” I say hotly. “The show should be about the music.”
“Yes,” says Adam. “It’s why I’ve been working to get the show signed over to me. Lisa and I are both in agreement. We want the show to be about the music.”
“And Martin Clark?” I ask, remembering how he tried to force our band into a pop template.
“Martin’s allegiances are more with the producers,” admits Adam. “I don’t know whether we’ll be able to keep him on as a judge.”
I consider all this.
“It’s all so dramatic,” I say finally. “Vote rigging. Corrupt judges.”
Adam laughs.
“Welcome to live television,” he says, a touch of bitterness in his voice. “You don’t know the half of it Summer. Compared to most shows on TV, Sing-Win is ethical.”
He shakes his head. “They told me this show would be different, and I foolishly believed them. It was high time I stepped in.”
“What do you mean?”
“Who do you think contacted the journalist?” says Adam. “I knew something was going on, when you were voted off. I saw the video. You were too good.”
“You…” I say slowly. “You contacted Emily and asked her to investigate?”
“Let’s just say I gave her a half-hour alone in this room,” says Adam.
Something else is dawning on me.
“We found something about vote rigging in here. In the trash,” I say. “Why did they choose this room?”
Adam shrugs. “It’s quiet. Private. At the back of the studio. They could easily get in here when you weren’t rehearsing. I guess someone was dumb enough to throw evidence in the trash, thinking it wouldn’t be found.”
“So what happens now?” I ask. “I mean. Is it over? The cheating?”
“As of 5pm this afternoon, I’m replacing the entire production crew,” says Adam. “I’ll choose legitimate professionals who believe in music. And the rigging is all out in the open now,” he says. “The next show will run by fair means.”
The next show. T
omorrow.
“I need to get back to Tammy and George,” I say, feeling a sudden desire to get back to work. “We’ve got a show to get through.”
“Ok,” says Adam, looking at me with concern. “I’ll drive you back now. But you’ve been through a lot Summer. Don’t take too much on.”
He thinks for a moment.
“I’ll be taking you out tonight,” he adds. “No arguments.”
With all he’s done for me in the last few days I’m hardly inclined to argue.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Somewhere fun,” says Adam. He pauses. “Somewhere that means a lot to me.”
Chapter 33
When I arrive back at the Sing-Win house, the atmosphere between George and Tammy is decidedly frosty. But once we get into rehearsing, the excitement starts to overtake them both. To be off the show and then back on again is too dramatic a turn of fate to see them at loggerheads.
To begin with, I’m preoccupied too. Adam’s promise of a date is on my mind. But I soon begin to focus on other things as the music gets going.
We’ve chosen a lighter song for this contest. Not exactly pop, but we wanted to show a fun side of us to the judges.
I also picked the song to try and ensure the mood between George and Tammy stays friendly.
I suspect some fireworks are due before too long. But I’m just praying it doesn’t happen before the show.
At the end of the day we’re all utterly exhausted – a by-product of too much drama and not enough rehearsal time.
But I’m confident that with another rehearsal tomorrow, we’ll put on a good show.
And we’ll finally have a fair shot, I think, remembering all the foul play that has gone on previously.
I haven’t told George and Tammy about the big producers’ set up. But I’m really looking forward, to finally competing on fair terms.
I guess for this show, the public really will decide.
Chapter 34
Adam meets me at the back of the Sing-Win house. And I feel a delicious sense of subterfuge, sneaking out and into his warm welcoming kiss.
“Hey gorgeous,” he says, “I missed you.”